Torment
by Zeil
Summary: Slash... Just how I think the movie should have ended, the conversation between Zoe and Drake largely different...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I really wish I owned Blade but no sorry he's his own man. Maybe Ryan will do... At any rate I have no claims on the movie...**

**Torment**

Prologue

_An Angel's Plea_

I'll break before I bend...

"Their going to kill him aren't they?" She asked looking inquiringly at him. It was the first time she'd spoken since seeing Hannibal...

"I don't know." He answered truthfully, leaning back in his chair.

"She seems to hold some sort of attachment to him... If he tells them what they want..." Drake offered, really not having considered much of 'their' plans. She looked downfallen...

"He won't tell them." She sighed, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

"Then they'll kill him." He states simply, he has no reason to spare her feelings. In truth he wants to see if she'll cry in front of him. She wants to, he can tell, but doubts she will.

"He always said he rather died then go back." She frowned.

"Then he'll get his wish…" Drake couldn't help but brood on that fact a little… The descendants of his bloodline were so pathetically boring and the only ones of interest were all inevitably going to die. What a boring world it could be.

"You could save him…" She said looking set on it.

"I suppose I could." He offered in a quiet husked voice.

"But you won't." She almost accused, her mouth setting into a firm line.

"I have no reason too."

"I s'pose not." She frowned looking once more at floor. A tear dribbled lazily from her eye. Drake watched its path over her cheek, around her mouth and across her chin. It clung for a moment to pale flesh and then dropped to the carpet. It left a muddy feeling at the back of his throat.

Zoe curled in on herself and fought the tears that threaten to choke her. Yet there seemed to be no end to the dark pit in her stomach. Seeing Hannibal like that had chipped a small part of her soul.

Drake sat back and watched her start to crumble slightly, considering the blood he could still smell on his own hands. The hunters blood… How different it smelt from all the rest.

"She treats you like puppet you know." Zoe mumbled, tearing Drake from lusty thoughts.

"I know she tries." Drake frowned wondering what the pixyish mass was up to now.

"You should teach her to respect you." Zoe ventured.

"Should I?" He was beyond intrigued by now.

"You said it yourself, she wants to own him… Why not keep him like you're keeping me…" Zoe stumbled, her voice quickening with nervousness.

"Such cheap antics won't save your friend." Drake interrupted quietly, getting down on one knee before her. She stared at him stubbornly.

"But since you have been so brave I'll make a deal with you… I keep him alive for as long as you stay here… If you leave, I will have her rip his throat out." He promised coolly.


	2. Dogbreath

**A/N: Hey, here we are children... Sorry I'm really dragging my arse lately... Bit of a block... But it has left the building... Sounds like I'm talking about... well anyway... Hope this lives up to expectation. Thankyou all my lovely reviewers.**

**Chapter One**

_Dog-Breath_

Pain was the first thing to set in, the deep throbbing grating in his head picking at the blissfulness of sleep. Then came his joints and muscles intruding. Protesting and aching dully. Lastly was the taste in his mouth, sour and bitter and largely consisting of his own spilt blood. Just lovely, dog-breath, as Abbey had said numerous mornings before he'd gone to brush.

Abbey! The girl he may possible be falling for. The girl he was quite realistically never gonna see again.

Hannibal pulled himself up slowly, even in haze of pain he could tell he was still somewhere in Danica's hideously decorated building. To think he'd spent his every waking moment pleading with who ever was overhead not to end up back here. Lot of good it had done! God really did drop the ball sometimes!

"And the rustling of each purple curtain…" Hannibal almost choked at the voice, stumbling to the door in the corner.

"Thrilled me." He lurched and leaned heavily in the doorway, blinking heavily as his eyes flickered in and out of focus.

"Filled me with fantastic terrors…" Zoe… He never expected to see her alive again… Had worried about killing her himself.

"Never felt before." Yet here she was, calmly reading from some yellowing novel and everything would have been fine then if it weren't for Drake sitting only a few chairs away.

"King!" It was excited lilt of any eight-year-old, scary in its normalcy.

"Hey, Zoe…" Hannibal choked, fighting the cough that pressed at the back of his throat. He clutched the doorframe, trying not to sway even though he was already leaned against something solid.

"Why-" Hannibal stopped, pushed down the urge to vomit and continued.

"Why don't you come over here…" He said groggily, patting the wall beside him, taking in shakily breathes.

The look that crossed her face was something he'd never seen before. She looked at the vampire apprehensively.

"No I'm okay here." She frowned shaking her head after a moment.

"But I think you really need to come stand by me." He explained, wondering when it got right down to it, what he could really do. Probably not much.

"I don't want to." Zoe frowned, sinking lower into the chair.

Hannibal's breath was let out shakily and he forced his legs forward, managing the three steps to the table without falling on his face. The world was dimming in and out from black and white and a kind of fuzzy deafness was trickling in and out of his ears.

"Zoe I-" He panted.

"You need to sit down." Deep little barbs that settled all over is skin, trembling slabs of granite and it plays in the back of his head.

King swallows weightily as the other rises and moves around the expanse of metal and glass… The whole room, some sharp lump of frost… Shiny polished pieces of melted glass and woven wrought iron, fluorescent lights and catwalks and so much like home… But not…

King's head flipped, twirled, spun, one thought leading into another without pause. A chair was pulled back from the table and a hand, warm and so out of place pushed against his shoulder, pushed him down.

"You'll sleep and you'll feel so much better…" That voice itched layers of skin off, made him tingle all over.

King's eyes refuse to open as he's settled down into the fabric… His mind was a scramble of fractured thoughts and memories… Reality bled in and out of fantasy and the vague taste of warm copper burning his tongue… Was that even real?

**Chapter Three**

_Fine Print_

King started awake to the cool colours of sunset lighting the highset windows, a deep streak of purple turquoise resting along the horizon, slowly giving way to star-speckled black.

Hannibal pulled himself up in the empty room. Zoe! He'd forgotten her, again! Yet once again her voice floated to him. Drifted on the air, nothing more than a quiet mumble and another higher pitched titter accompanied it.

He used the table to pull himself up, found his legs surprisingly steady beneath his weight. He stepped over to the rail; the floor opening up on a lounge room floors below.

Zoe sat quite comfortably on a sofa below, feet tucked up beneath her body, a short brunette, in a chequered mini-skirt and black sleeveless top studying her palm closely.

"Children… they truly are so breakable, you know." Drake offered and Hannibal's skin pricked.

"Not as well as you I'm sure." He bit and instantly regretted it. The elder smirked.

"It's not something I've studied at length… Merely an observation." He gravelled and moved closer to King. The hunter stubbornly refused to move from the spot. If Abbey had been present she would have slapped him, because it wasn't the best tactical position. But there wasn't really a 'best' position at all in this. He was exhausted and weaponless and facing…

"Well feel free not to share with me." King spat and the vampire was close enough to touch. Drake smirked once more.

"Such a shame that Danica would kill her if she could." He breathed, lured the conversation in certain direction.

"I'm sure you're really cut up about it."

"I hope we're all playing nice children!" She was a shrill; grating interruption and Drake was, not for the first time really regretting not killing her. The unwelcome click of ridiculous heels echoing over a catwalk.

"We have a similar aliment I think." Drake bit lightly.

"During the day, I keep the windows open so she amuses herself elsewhere, unfortunately there's nothing for it at night." He smiled ruefully and stepped around Hannibal. Going to sprawl in an overstuffed lounge… and how strange it was to see him so lax. King turned away from him and still felt eyes lingering on his skin.

"And how is my little pet doing." Danica cooed mockingly, invading the platform, her and her little entourage. Suddenly the gaze at his back didn't feel so bad.

"Sorry still haven't learnt how to heel yet princess." He snarled.

"Well we can work on that." She grinned.

"Sorry just not really planning on being a long term guest here."

"Sorry to disappoint King, but your friends are dead. Nobody's coming." She promised coolly and Hannibal gripped the rail harder, trying to stay steady. Danica was lying as always. Abbey wasn't…

"You know that serious face is really coming along well…" Danica held up her hand and Hannibal has to fight flinching, thinking he's about to be hit. It's an old bad habit. She opens her fingers and a gold chain and pedant fall and spin, still trapped in her grasp slightly. A tiny angel…

"That doesn't mean shit!" He growls and slaps it out of her hand, sends the little fleck of gold flying across the room. He has to grip the rail so hard that his knuckles turn white and his hands start to bruise. Has to, just to keep himself up. Danica's hands all over something that's Abbey's and he almost can't stand it.

"I told you lover, she's dead… They're all dead." She hissed, twisting a knife that has already done enough damage and Drake is beyond amused. Danica is a grating piece of sandpaper but the hunter- like honey, smooth and sweet going down.

"Yeah and if you weren't such a lying goat-blowing bitch-"

"Danica." Drake warns as a hand is raised, itching to crack the other across the cheek.

"Seems you've well overstayed your welcome. If indeed you even had an invite to start with." Danica glared, at least tried to because she never quite met Drake's gaze head on.

"Talk again soon." She promised sweetly and stormed out.

King went straight to Abbey's pendant lying so carelessly on the floor, he scooped it up and clutched it desperately in his trembling hand.

"For what it's worth she probably was lying." He'd almost forgotten Drake in his panic.

"Seemed so to me." Drake breathed.

"You don't like her." Hannibal stated numbly, trying to push the urge to vomit back down.

"Nor do you."

"Me. Oh, no I love her, how could I not. She's so warm and fuzzy." He quipped.

"That mouth of yours boy…" Drake smirks, still reclining lazily.

"If your so desperate to use it there are far more productive things…" The elder offers and King actually looks away, then back quickly because that shouldn't get a reaction out of him.

"Besides as it is, it gets you into far too much trouble." He pointed out gutturally.

"Well I guess you can just smack me back into line." King rambled.

"I don't think you could give me cause to strike you."

"Really?" The disbelief showed.

"Not as she does." Hannibal could understand that. The other wouldn't hit him for impertinence, but in a fight… He still didn't believe it.

"So if I was to call you an uptight, pansy, who can't get it up… You wouldn't…" He really should stop…But the other probably wouldn't get it anyway.

"Fools rush in where angels fear to tread." He smirked.

"You have no sense boy." He frowned.

"Okay one thing straight, my name is Hannibal King, ridiculous I know. But my name none the less. So boy just isn't gonna work for me." Yep, definitely no sense. Drake still just seemed amused.

"Very well, just so long as we're straightening things out though, the first two I'm clearly not as for the third I guess you'll just have to take my word for it." Hannibal for a second can't think of what he's talking about.

"Unless you'd like a private show on just how many times I can 'get it up'."

"No! Actually I'm good." Not really, truthfully he feels pretty damn awful. But curling up and crying isn't an option at the moment, not when he has Zoe to think about.

He can still hear her down below. Chatting quietly.

"You're not afraid of me are you?" Drake questions, rising slowly from the plush upholstery.

"Actually I'm pretty much terrified, I think it has something to do with you being able to take my arm off like a chicken wing." This time he backed up, painfully aware of his own words.

"Yet you prefer me to her." He husked.

"I'd prefer a pit of poisonous snakes to her…" King scoffed.

"Big ones too." He added.

"Plus, shockingly, you seem a little less bloodthirsty." King offered.

"And you worry what she'll do to Zoe… What she'll force you to do." Hannibal has nothing to say to that because it's right on mark.

"Would you like to keep her safe?" He continues.

"Yes."

"Then agree to a couple of conditions and I'll make sure Danica never lays a hand on her." Drake teases slightly.

"What conditions?" Drake smiles and Hannibal's stomach protests.

"You have to stay here with me…"

"What could you possibly want with me?" He questions. The smirk widens.

"You honesty don't see your own worth do you King." The name sounds so foreign from his mouth.

"She wants you and although it kills her not having you… it itches even more when someone else does and I like idea of being a thorn under her skin." He explains earnestly.

"It probably holds some appeal for you too." Drake offered and Hannibal didn't even want to deny it.

"What's the other?" King breathed painfully.

"Just that you keep our deal away form Zoe's ears." He sighed.

King took the time to consider, when really there wasn't anything to think about.

"If you or anyone else hurts her I'll kill you." It seemed hollow and cliche to him. Drake backed him up to the railing, trapped him there with his body.

"I have no trouble believing that! I just wonder what you'd have to do in order to accomplish it…" The honeyed-amber eyes shift ceaselessly.

**Chapter four**

_Empty _

"This is a nightmare!" Abbey pinched her nose, the spiky digital lettering trembling before her eyes.

"Gus, why is this not working." She sighed.

"Could be any number of reasons, the chip could have shorted, the satellite could be fucked up… Hell even thick enough walls made of the right stuff could block the signal." Gus chewed. She was a short girl of only fifteen, with thick glasses and something constantly hanging from her mouth. Chewing and sucking anything from lollies, to cigarettes, to plastic coated wire cable.

"Hell they could have removed it for all we know." She slurped and Abbey bit the inside of her cheek.

"Doubtful." Abbey puffed.

"Well, a hard impact could have messed it up… Hannibal does get sat on his arse a lot." Gus fiddled through another few computer screens.

"We all do!" Abbey snapped and then kicked the computer table with a frustrated grunt.

"Hey watch the equipment." The blonde warned as Abbey stalked off.

"The chips not fucking working!" Abbey cried in frustration.

"I heard." Blade said calmly, cleaning the length of his sword. (A/N: Snicker! Sorry Childish I know.)

"So what the hell are we supposed to do?" She cried, because indeed had already turned inwards… She already hated herself for what happened, because damn it she should have been there… Even if it was just to die with them…

"Same thing as before… Bleed the chain…" He barely breathed out.

"It'll take too long… They'll…" She couldn't say it because say it made it real.

"You need to face facts… Come to terms with the awful truth… Its already been two days…" He said finally looking up at her.

"Their dead…" The words left her body along with all the oxygen in her lungs. Suddenly in felt like the world was pushing in on her. Slowly crumpling her into a little ball.

"We will take the place apart… But I don't expect daisies and sunshine and you shouldn't either…"

**Chapter Five**

_Promises, Promises_

Danica was vexed, Asher's broken wrist was proof of that! He held it to his chest, feeling the skin itch as the bones within mended.

"What's wrong kitten. G-string rubbing the wrong spot!" He grinned.

"Blow me!" She scowled, staring despondently down at the world.

"Oh, my poor little thing… Your little pet's home and your still not happy." Asher teased.

"Lot of good it does me… Patriarch of all vampires why the hell can't find his own toys…" She bit, eyes narrowed.

"Mmmm, who would've thought he even went that way." Asher observed and his sister barely even listened. It cut slightly.

"Though I suppose I can kind of see the appeal. If that's your thing!" He dug.

"And you did school him so very well…" Her shoulders stiffened…

"Maybe he's down on his knees right now showing off some of those invaluable skills." Asher smirked as the sound of grinding teeth met his ears.

"Or maybe it's the other way around… Maybe its Drake doing the teaching." She drummed her fingers.

"I could see that!" He smirked as she started to tap her heels as well.

"Hannibal buried beneath Drake nothing but a pile of moans and sweat as Drake thrusts-"

"Hardly!" They both jumped and turned at the voice. The elder leaned in the doorway.

Asher swallowed wondering how much he'd heard, how pissed he was…

"Quite a nice thought though." He breathed into the blondes ear as he passed, going to toy will a Celtic blade that was strung from the wall… Edges sharp and glinting under the yellow lighting. Asher fought back a shiver.

"My lord, what could possibly drag you to this corner of-" She was trying, really she was. To be submissive and undemanding…

"I find it so puzzling how you only call me that when you think I'm listening." Drake dug and she stopped immediately.

"What do you want!" She gritted.

"That's better." He growled.

"As for what I want…" He pulled down the blade.

"Place your hand on the table…" Danica looked at him and then the knife… realising for the first time that there was a quiet sort of rage bubbling beneath the surface. She licked her lips and placed her hand palm down on the corner closest to him. A hot little prickling of fear tingling over her shoulders.

"I want you to think about how much your attached to various body parts." He gravelled.

"That hand in-particular…" Asher had never seen his sister squirming before.

He brought the knife down and Danica flinched… her hand pulled back from the table slightly. Not enough to remove in from harms way… but noticeable. He stopped the decent inches from her skin. But her heart was racing anyway.

"I want you to think of that feeling… Every time you look at him…" He breathed out icily.

"And the next time you raise your hand to him…" He promised.

"I will remove it at the wrist…" He bit out each word.

"Starting with first joint on each finger!" He growled, tossing aside the dagger.

"What the hell have we woken up!" Danica breathed as Drake stalked from the room and Asher moved to her side.

* * *

Hannibal ran a hand through wet hair, casting off drops. He was only three feet from the bathroom and already he missed the hot water! Though that was hardly the worst of his problems, since upon reaching the middle of the room he realise that the only clothing he had was tossed aside on the floor of the bathroom. 

Bloody, dirty and smelling none too pleasant- not generally his first choice but…

"If your looking for clothing, it's the top drawer…" Hannibal jumped slightly, despite himself… Even for a vampire his guy crept.

"Thanks." He mumbled even as his skin tingled at the thought of wearing the others clothes… Only they weren't. He pulled open a wooden drawer and found clothing a size too small for the elder and also still sporting tags…

"Andrea insisted on getting them for you… She does so like to shop!" Drake breathed.

"Andrea?" Hannibal questioned finally turning towards the other.

"You saw her earlier… with Zoe."


	3. Normalcy

**A/N: Hey guy... In case your wondering about the gap, there's about a paragraph and a half which I accidently didn't bring with me. Just King being smutty really. It's not instrumental so I'll probably just forget about posting it. But it is written so if ya want it Email me and I'll send it to you. I just won't to post this now because I already told people it would be up. So sorry. My bad. I might actually repost this next time with the missing bit. Anyway thank you everyone for reviews. Big hugs and kisses. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Six**

Normalcy

_Fate leads the willing, and drags along those who hang back._

_Seneca_

"Don't fib!"

"I'm not!"

"So a persons whole life is written on their hands…" Zoe asked small fingers held out closely to her own face.

"Well not everything… Like I can't tell you what you were eating last Thursday for breakfast but…" Andrea considered, sucking her lip.

"Like here…" She took Zoe's hand careful to watch her grip… It was so strange… being able to hurt things just by touching them. She pointed at the fractured line around her right thumb.

"This here means that you were really sick when you were a baby…" She said sucking her teeth. Zoe pulled her hand back and studied the small indents…

"Really?" Zoe frowned.

"No…" Andrea finally admitted.

"Well there supposed to but… Well I could never see it…" She cast off, shaking her head. It was a sore point… At least it had been while she was alive… She didn't suppose it mattered much now that she was no good with tealeaves and tarot cards…

"It's okay… I don't see it either…" Zoe said dropping her hands.

"Don't see what?" Hannibal questioned rubbing sleep from his eyes. It was some early hour of the morning… The sky still a dusty shade of grey… Or was it just the storm clouds that were gathering making it seem earlier than it was… King couldn't tell, there was never any sense of time when staying with vampire's… Especially Drake… He just didn't seem to sleep at all.

"King…" Zoe said latching onto his hand as he ruffled her hair. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to her, clinging desperately. Finally showing her exact age… Finally giving in to this urge to grasp the only thing she knew for sure she had left… Hannibal knew the feeling well… Wrapping hands across her arms and body, pulling her against his chest and into a tight huge. He had to get her out… She wasn't too bad though, considering her mother had been killed only days before. Maybe she should be though.

"He lives…" Andrea smirked, refilling Zoe's glass of orange juice. She was in a black mini skirt with a long sleeved black tee. A dog collar choker pressed just beneath a scarred bite on her throat. Black lipstick covered full lips. Her eyes lined and shadowed in a similar dark mist. It was odd seeing her in a white tiled kitchen… eating fruit loops… wait.

"Vampire's don't eat…" Hannibal accused. The smirk widened.

"I beg to differ." She said leaning against the counter that Zoe was sitting at and spooning the sugary cereal into her mouth.

"Danica doesn't eat…" He frowned… he'd never seen…

"Her loss." He jumped as Drake ambled into the room. Andrea grinned and lifted herself up onto the counter. Giving Hannibal a good view of knee-high boots and all the creamy flesh between that and the bottom of her short skirt.

"What's this?" The elder breathed out deeply.

"Fruit loops…" She pouted, giggling and spooning the lumps of sugar into his mouth.

Hannibal checked to see if the world was falling in on itself. It was so odd to see Dagon, Dracula… Drake, being fed… Milk dripping down his chin. He purred gutturally, swallowing and licking the translucent fluid from lips; running the back of his hand over the last stray drops.

The sky wasn't falling but King was pretty sure it should have been. There should have been fire reigning down from the sky to complement the unreality of the conversation-taking place before him.

"Actually I was thinking about going shopping…" Andrea said licking her thumb.

"How unusual." Drake murmured with a hint of humour and a small twist of lips.

"I was thinking about taking Zoe with me." A non-committal mmm was the answer. Hannibal was still waiting for the sky caving in thing.

"Please, you wanna bore the poor kid to death by making her hang out with Danica's crew all day…" Andrea pouted, actually hanging off of the other's arm like a child. It was so odd… So offsetting to see the patriarch of vampires in such a way.

"Besides Zoe's already promised to behave…" She persuaded. Though Hannibal got the distinct impression that persuasion didn't work on the other…

"I'm sure she will…" He said looking at the face buried beneath blonde hair. She met his gaze levelly.

"All right, if you must." He sighed, a quiet little rumble.

Andrea snatched something off the counter with a happy little giggle. She kissed the others cheek, smudging lipstick onto golden skin.

"Go!" He ordered as she smirking tried to wipe it off.

"Right!" She held her hand out to Zoe who hopped down off the counter and took it.

"We're out the door, down the hall, gone…" She said backing from the room.

"And taking my car…" Drake gravelled to himself as they disappeared from sight, looking at the now keyless counter-top.

"Is Zoe going to…" Hannibal felt that cold rush of fear upon realising that Zoe was leaving with a vampire… Being taken away from him… Stripping him of even the illusion that he could protect her.

"Andrea won't hurt her… and if she does… you get to kill me…" He smirked.

"Won't that be interesting…" The smirk widened and not in all of his wonderings had Hannibal ever expected the other to behave like this…

"Ya know the minute Andrea turns her back Zoe's gone…" King informed, a sick little streak of terror forming at the other simply being lost out in the world…

"Doubtful she values your life to dearly…" Hannibal didn't get it at first… then the little bits clicked twistedly together… Like what he was even doing still alive.

"You made a deal with Zoe too didn't you…" He asked as the other toyed with the bright red cereal packet. He considered for a moment.

"King… I give you my word, both you and Zoe are safe… The fine print probably isn't something you should be worrying about."

"Your word…" Hannibal snorted…

"Yes, I am capable of keeping it… More so than most…" The elder bit slightly, as though offended.

"Drake, Danica was wanting to speak with you…" Asher interrupted from the doorway, as though afraid to enter any further, disappearing from sight as soon as he'd said it.

"Though where you get your distrust from is evident…understandable too…" That same weary smirk… As though he's seen it all before.

Hannibal follows as the other saunters into what's probably the lounge. Danica is an imposing presence as always. Drake sprawls out across a cream coloured couch. Looking like a teenager dragged along to a parent-teachers night.

Danica's arms are folded across her chest at the sight of him.

"I'm not talking in front of him!" She snips, expecting King to be sent away.

"Fabulous, go elsewhere…" Drake grates, watching her shoulders stiffen. King snickers audibly, can't not.

"Why don't you just sit down and shut your mouth you little hooker." She growled, grinding her teeth.

Drake could tell there was an insult on the tip of King's tongue, just waiting to be voiced… He had a better idea.

"Yes, why don't you come sit down." He watched as the other took a tentative seat beside him. Drake pulled the hunter across his body, feeling muscles tense.

Hannibal winced slightly at the hands… knowing that by now it shouldn't bother him to have his body be used… God knew Danica had done it enough. But here, now, in front of her… It only served to prove her point that he was indeed nothing but a prostitute… He hated it…

"Play with me." The elder whispered into his ear, mouth pressed close, so that even he could barely hear. The meaning was pretty clear, or so Hannibal thought. Until he actually thought about it and realised that Drake actually just meant the innocent, rather childish meaning of the phrase.

King bit back a groan as the other licked the shell of his ear… Obviously it wasn't the very most virtuous meaning… But still… Drake wanted to torture Danica, Hannibal would help with that… Even if he had to get felt-up in the process. Which was looking less and less unappealing all the time.

Drake placed a warm hand on the small of his back, the other stroking the delicate flesh behind his ear. It didn't take much else, Danica clicking her heels in irritation, grinding her teeth steadily. King had to hold back a laugh.

"Well I'll just come back when you're less preoccupied." Danica spat, eyes narrowed to slits.

"Might take awhile." Drake teased at his lips with tongue and teeth. Drawing a hiss from Danica, who stalked from the room… her little groupies scampering after.

The other actually laughed at this… deep and thick… making something-uncomfortable twist in King's stomach.

"She has such a lovely disposition… Don't you think?" He was actually joking, and it took Hannibal a minute to get it. The other slipping off the couch and returning to the kitchen.

"You enjoyed that way too much." He pointed out, following Drake once more.

"Didn't you?" Drake said, lazy grin still firmly in place.

"Why do you hate them so much…" King asked, not getting the drastic change between how he treated Andrea to the rest.

"How could I not…" He sneered.

"They're so weak, so pathetic, barely different from the humans who they loathe so much." He gritted.

"Blade is a problem for them. Instead of facing him they send humans to do their wet work…" He scoffed.

"You didn't exactly face him yourself." King, bites his lip after saying it… Probably not a good idea to give shit to the man keeping Zoe alive.

"There's a time and a place for everything." Drake breathed seeming very unconcerned with what he thought.

"Oh, and here I was thinking you were just running like a girl…" Why? Why could he just not shut up…

Drake didn't understand it… Not fully. There was still so much to learn about this New World… The language in particular… He wasn't so stupid though that he couldn't tell it was an insult of some sort.

"Truly…" He gravelled. He moved around the counter, the nightstalker, pushing himself hard against the cool wood. To his credit though he once again didn't move. Didn't flinch away. Drake planted hands on either side of him, catching his eyes. Drake breathed in deeply, a small tingle of fear mixing with the heavier scent of arousal, which he found so very interesting…

King jumped lightly as a hand settled itself low between his hips, inches below his navel. So close too- Fingers slid up beneath his shirt, lifting it and exposing a thin strip of stomach. Drake's hand moving back down, lowering his jeans just a little… Stopping to scratch nails lightly over shivering flesh. He stepped back, just a little to look down at the others body.

"That mark doesn't do you justice…" He growled, low in his throat. Hannibal swallowed, any smart-arsed reply he may have had, had dried up with his voice.

He watched in rapt, stunned silence as the other slowly lowered himself to the floor, leaving trailing kissing as he went, down the middle of Kings chest. Hot breath tickling through thin fabric. Hannibal bit back a whimper as his shirt ended and the other's lips like sanded silk, soft and pricking closed over his skin. Made the hairs on his arms and neck protest.

Hannibal gripped the counter-top, Drake's eyes dark pits whenever they caught each other's gaze. He knew what was coming instinctively. Could feel it in every part of his body and didn't want it with the same.

"Don't do this…" The hunter winced.

"Why not?" Drake said smoothly, voice slightly rougher. His tongue skimmed over paler stomach.

"It takes a lot more than a bite from me to turn you." Drake bit very softly, teeth still dull.

"I don't like-" His voice cuts off, memories of Danica's teeth, still sharp and clear in his mind. It was cold and mind numbing, like dentist needles, the worst kind of pain… and yet another sore point where Danica had used him, allowed other's to do the same.

"They weren't doing it right." Drake growled with more than an edge of anger to his voice, though he actions still remained gentle.

King let out a shakily held breath as Drake's tongue once more tracked over his stomach, hard and rough like coarse velvet. Those hot lips accompanying it, sucking blood to the topmost layers of skin. Sending blood pouring to another area of his body. It's a painful little ache which King wishes wasn't there… But wishing doesn't work; Danica taught him that every night for five years. Such harsh abrading lessons.

King almost welcomes the pain when it comes, because it grounds him precious little. Drake sucking the tattooed skin, teasing with tongue and teeth and then biting, wide and hard. Hannibal whimpering dismally, because the elder wasn't lying… They weren't doing it right… He clutches desperately at the hardness beneath his hands, can't even recall what he's holding onto anymore. All across his hips, hot with a sticky type of burn, a thorny ache, that pounds almost exactly in time with the throbbing between his legs. Drake scraping off layer upon layer of skin, Hannibal realising that he intends to remove the ink all together. God… it should hurt more… it should definitely hurt more!

"What're you doing?" Comes yet another grating interruption. Showing him what you wouldn't. Drake thinks nastily.

"Enjoying breakfast…" Drake flings at Danica, pulling away sightly, but still lapping at salty skin.

"Blade has shut down another of our plants!" She hisses back, stalking away in a huff.

Drake pulled away completely, licking stray drops from his lips. Straitening in front of Hannibal who can't quite meet his eyes at first. Silence falls and stretches, neither really wanting to break it. Drake fixed on how the other looks. Cheeks flushed and hot, breathing in broken little pants.

"That's much more fitting…" He purrs lazily, inspecting King's stomach once more.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Seven**

_**Breakin' Down**_

_When life gives you lemons… Just remember making lemonade is tacky and out-dated._

It's raining; it's pouring… Abbey can remember Zoe's voice singing it as though she'd just left the girl's side. Its like the voice is echoing in her ears still, even after all this time.

It was indeed pouring though, the whether was grey and miserable, fitted to her mood almost. The sky shedding the tears that she couldn't, because if she started to cry… If she let herself fall apart then she'd never get back up… Would never be able to make it up back off the floor. She'd just die… Exactly like she'd told Blade… He seemed unfazed by it all… granite, buried beneath tonnes of ice. Untouchable and Abbey would give anything to be like that.

She put everything she had into fighting, putting her full weight behind every punch, every sweep of leg, it was such a comfortable numbness. To just allow the violence to wash over, leech away everything else. But it's not enough; her best has never been good enough. Which is why she slips. They're fighting in the middle of a warehouse, a large empty building with almost no obstructions, so Abbey can't blame anything but herself when she seriously misjudges a punch… Swings forward into thin air, the guy she's facing off with palming a stiletto and Abbey expects with a sense of detachment to feel the blade slashing through her back. As she falls forward almost in slow motion, catching sight of Blade from the corner of her eye, he's caught up with problems of his own.

The guy thrusts down with the knife and then inexplicably drops, the loud crack of a gun filling the warehouse, echoing off into oblivion. Abbey pulls herself up to face a tall guy, perhaps a decade younger than herself. His head is closely shaved, barely distinguishable from his dark skin.

Blade kicks out and shatters the last guy's knee, watching as the figure screams and drops, writhing on the ground.

"Nice shot." He gravels turning and regrading the intruder who, standing in the light of day, is obviously not a vampire.

"Must run in the gene's." He shoots back. He's carrying a duffle bag over one arm and a shotgun under the other. A baggy green jacket and dark jeans covering his form.

"Oh really and who hell are you?" Blade demanded nastily.

"Last time I checked…" There was something so offsetting about the same two lazy deep tones going back and forth at each other. Abbey shifts as some vague thought itched at the side of her head, just waiting to become whole…

"I was your son…" And that, would be about it!

* * *

**

* * *

Chapter Eight**_**Long Time Coming**_

_By the time you say you his;_

_Shivering and sighing_

_And he vows his passion is;_

_Infinite, undying_

_Lady, make note of this,_

_Sadly…_

_One of you is lying._

The weight of a sword was comforting in his hands, grounding almost. Drake stepped forward, swept his arm out in a large ark and then brought the blade back in to his chest. Breathing slowly, deeply, trying to ignore the tingle which still tormented at his throat. Whispered to him of sweet oblivion, sweet rapture if he'd just... His hands tightened at the hilt and he fought the urge to let his eyes droop closed. Because closing his eyes would bring the shadowy images of pleasure behind them to life. Not, a welcome intrusion at the moment. Unfortunately for the first time in five centuries his body seemed unwilling to obey him. So he could forget about focusing on technique, it wasn't going to happen when his throat ached, his stomach demanded and his cock stung still with the barest hint of need.

Drake wasn't giving up the farce though, he moved through the motions, all the while, the boy's hips beneath his lips replayed at the back of his head. What dangerous territory he was stumbling into… Desiring his enemy… Not smart even for one as strong as he, because one little pebble could send you stumbling. Drake knows this better than anyone. Denial isn't something that comes naturally though. Although the elder could do without almost everything, being able to and choosing to, were very different things. Drake liked having, whatever he wished.

Turning him would have made it safer and yet impossible at the same time. King would never consent to touching him after and Drake had little interest in an unwilling lover. It was tedious and distasteful and entirely Danica's forte. Danica… Drake's grip tightened, the metal twisting beneath his hands, creaking and snapping cleanly, the bottom half of the handle now separate from the rest.

Drake sneered and tossed it aside, eyes now raking over the other layed out weapons.

A lot could be carried in a drop of blood… memories were just one on a long list. Most vampires were numb to it; they had no reason to not be. Drake was going to slaughter her for what she'd put him through. The memories pulled him as though they were his own. King's humiliation and suffering, now a deep cut in Drake's pride. She was a perfect example of the mockery that had been made of his blood.

In millennia's of existence he'd dealt all manner of deaths, most were just that, quick, clean. Some had been torturous bloodbaths; none had ever broached what she'd inflicted upon him. For fun, her amusement, her pleasure.

Danica, her idiot brother, who'd, forced the nightstalker down across a table while his sister was off in Prague. They and a dozen other names and faces who Drake had yet to meet were all on the chopping block for their parts in his pain.

A weighty crossbow was taken in hand and snapped in two, with a growl.

"Interesting way of training… Keep that up and pretty soon you'll be through an entire armory." It was timid and quiet, drenched with a kind of nervous lilt.

"A new style then… think it'll catch on?" Drake breathed in frustration.

"Maybe." The other hovered in the door; shoulders slumped, looking like he wished to crawl beneath the floorboards. Hannibal was awkward and off-kilter and it was odd… the first time Drake had really seen him stripped of all his fire and false-bravado.

Good-lord the boy was like a-no not like, was a whipped puppy. Not without reason, but Drake wasn't about to tolerate weakness. King had been burnt… so had the globe and although punishment was going to be doled out for it, Drake also wasn't about to let the other wallow. He was appalled that the other nightstalker's had allowed it at all, let alone for so long.

"Come in or get out! Stop lurking it itches…" Drake growled and felt an infuriating guilty pang as the brunette winced. But never the less, he stumbled in a few steps… didn't leave.

"What do you want with me and Zoe…"

"Have we not already had this conversation?" Drake questioned, palming a broadsword, testing the weight and then replacing it on the table.

"Let Zoe go… I'll stay… You couldn't possibly want anything with her…" He plead and Drake would've been disgusted if it were for his own life… For the girl's… it was a little endearing.

"What I want with Zoe is… hardly your business." Drake teased, it was alarming how quickly the boy could stamp-out his anger, make him playful when really he should have been furious.

Hannibal scoffed ad picked up the same broadsword that the other had just discarded. Drake watched, bemused as he parred awkwardly.

"Firstly… that's not how broadsword are held… Secondly that's way too heavy for you." Drake informed handing over a lighter hunk of metal. Hannibal switched it for the one in his hands and tried too mimic the grip he'd seen Blade using.

"Your fingers need to be closer together and lower… Whilst your thumb needs to be higher… Better." He sighed as King re-gripped the hilt.

"Know a lot about handling guys swords, huh…" King smirked feeling marginally better. Drake arched a brow… Why was it that the boy insisted upon believing that they hadn't had sex in the middle ages?

"Oh yes, I've had lots of… practice." Drake bit, moving down the table to him.

"Well ya know I've always thought other peoples business was other peoples business… so..." Hannibal stumbled, flicking the blade nervously from one hand to the next.

"Here. It's like this…" Drake grabbed his arm and turned Hannibal in against his chest, placing his hands over the other's. Hannibal breathed out shakily, biting his bottom lip. Warm arms were wrapped over his, the vampire's chest hot and alive against his back. Heartbeat strong and slow and steady… was that actually what he was feeling? He swallowed painfully.

"The swords angled up to the left… and then swept back down." It was a rough whisper tickling against his neck.

"Not entirely like sex at all." The words elicited another painful swallow, as Drake's body moved his into another wide ark.

"Some of the principals are the same. I'll give you that!" Drake smirked as he felt King tense, felt heat rise up into his neck and cheeks.

"Then you step in…" Drake pressed his leg to forward, encouraging King to move, the nightstalker trying to keep his breathing in check. It didn't help that there was now no space between them at all. Arm to arm, back to chest, one of Kings feet now resting between Drake's, his lower back flowing down the vampire's taut stomach… His butt curving perfectly to the hollow of Drake's groin. The one consolation being that Drake thankfully wasn't hard, like King… not yet.

"Of course in sex… finger placement's a little different…" Drake breathed into his ear, hand leaving the sword to skim down the length of his stomach. King gasping as finger's started to stroke along the bulge beneath his pants.

"Why are you doing this?" He says, pained, because he's betraying everyone who's ever given a damn about him.

"Because its fun." The sword clattered to the ground in a flare of anger as Hannibal tore his other hand free and brought his elbow back into Drake's stomach. A growl met his ears as he was spun around to face the pissed vampire.

"Now that's not very nice…" Drake almost pouted.

"I think a little punishments in order." Hannibal turned his head away from Drake's lips.

"Danica's not even here… What could you possibly want from me." He rasped.

"Right now, a kiss." Drake informed.

"Sorry I make it point not to kiss people who have stabbed me in the chest… It's a terrible basis for a relationship. I've learnt." King tried to pry himself from the other's arms.

"Still so upset about that… I guess I'll make it better then." King was lifted easily onto the end of the table, legs splayed around Drake's waist.

"Ya know…actually I'm so…" King stumbled, Drake's hands running the length of his thighs, stoping to rest against his hips.

"But I insist!" He said coolly. King's mouth hung open as he searched desperately for some insult to fling at the other, some tawdry joke that would make him stop. Yet again, nothing came to mind.

The hands moved up once more, under his shirt, rigging up the material, uncovering the small scar that stood out stark and white against his tan chest.

"I can't believe that's healed already."

"I gave you a little of my blood, it helped. Obviously it's still paining you though." King choked on any retorts he had, or protests over being fed vampire blood, Drake's tongue snaking out to skim along his last few ribs. It's so much like the tattoo that King's half expecting to feel teeth. He's not disappointed, they scrape over him once more, leaving thin trails of fire where the skins been taken off. There's no blood this time though… Drake quite contented when he pulls away to find the silver circle now swollen red and starting to bruise.

"Better…" King nodded, not trusting what voice he had left, his hands shaking steadily.

"Oh, but look I've think I may have made other harder, problems worse… I should really take care of this too. It couldn't possibly be comfortable." King fell back against his elbows; he was passed caring, passed arguing, passed it all. Apparently Drake was too. He tongued his way down King's stomach, leaving a wet trail; Hannibal gasping was he paused, stopping to rip open the other's stiff pants. Nibbling at the flesh below his navel to pass the time, tongue dipping into the hollow, teeth gazing over the freshly healing skin, the scar instead of the tattoo. It sent barbs tingle up Hannibal's spine.

He let his arms collapse beneath him, back hitting the table, weapons layed out scant inch from his head. Hands going to cultch at Drake's shoulder's, as the vampire finished with his clothes. He'd finished with the teasing too apparently. His tongue glancing across the tip of Hannibal's weeping length, before swallowing him down to the base. Thready moans poured from King's throat… slipping about between each pained gasp. Sweat was beading and trickling off his body, while the red that had stained his cheek for so long was now creeping down his chest.

He screwed his eyes shut and bit his lip… he shouldn't be doing this… Not with Drake of all people… Though the vampire hadn't exactly asked… and yet he hadn't exactly said no either. Hannibal tried to bite off the next cry and failed spectacularly as Drake tongue laved along the underside of him, dipped his tongue into the tip.

The building was full of vampire's… they all must've heard… hell even the familiar were probably catching most of it… King just really didn't care; he didn't care about anything. He didn't at this moment even care if Abbey was in the building, listening to him giving himself over willingly to Drake.

Hannibal's vision blurred as he came, spots dancing and bursting, Drake's name a shout on his lips… and finally after all this time, after all the fighting, which in the end obviously meant nothing, King was right back to where he'd started. A pet… Only not with Danica… Both a plus and a minus, because although Danica was a bitch beyond reason, he also knew her. Knew what to expect, unpleasant as it was… What did Drake want…?

His shorts were slid back into place as Drake finished with lapping up every drop of spilt fluid. He pulled King gently from the table, holding him up on unsteady legs.

"Wasn't too torturous was it now?"

"No." Dizziness crept into the corers of his head; King allowed the other to draw him forward, his lips parting. He wanted to taste himself on Drake's lips…

"Oh, isn't it sweet you two are bonding." Andrea's voice cut through the room, King pulling away from Drake.

"Oh please don't mind me!" She giggled and her face disappeared from the doorway.

Drake almost laughed at King's expression, would have if it wasn't so miserable. Perhaps he'd got a little too far… A little hard not too when only a few moments before the other had been layed out before him, a prefect picture of wanton submission. Now he'd barely look him in the eyes.

Drake slipped a finger beneath his chin, tilting up his face; Hannibal took the hint and looked at him, held his gaze.

"You still owe me that kiss."


	5. All You Know

**AN: I'm sorry guys I'm so fucking clueless... I was ment to have this up on friday... Unfortunately I came now with a really bad flu... and well bad stuff sort of ensued from there. I'm really sorry... But here we are now and hopefully thing will improve, hopefullythis was worth the wait!**

**Chapter Nine**

All You Know 

_The basic rules of life are this;_

_Look but don't touch…_

_Touch, but don't taste;_

_Taste… But don't swallow!_

_Now tell me how any may live like this._

Love, hate, lust, betrayal, fear… and only one woman had ever brought them out this sharply in Blade. Karen Jensen stood barely three feet from him… Close enough to touch… Close enough to… Blade's hands gripped at air, balling into fists in a desperate attempt to leash the torrent of hunger, pure, unadulterated… But never ever simple! Not with Karen, who'd offered herself to him so freely… Karen who'd carried his child… ten years ago. Oh, how he hated her.

Hated that she'd offered him blood when he was too weak to refuse, offered him love to fill the loss of… and she'd walked out of his life… without even a goodbye… It made too much sense that she would now hold all the keys… To destroying the vampire's… too destroying Drake… To finally freeing him… She refused to help… and that figured too.

..

Hannibal's legs were terribly unsteady, and Zoe's sweet smiling face was enough to gut him… Figuratively speaking, though she'd probably want to if she ever found out what he'd just done. Oh, god… But Zoe thankfully was unusually unobservant… She was happy; bright spikes of grief carefully kept from her expression.

"…Even picked up these for you…" Andrea smirked, clipping a pair of fuzzy handcuffs to King's wrist, as she flitted between the lounge and kitchen. King stood beside the kitchen door, leaned against the wall, looking stupidly at the pieces of metal… Keys dangling. He jolted as Drake's hand suddenly curled around his wrist…

"Look's good on you…" He smirked, raising the limb to his mouth. King flinched as the vampire kissed his wrist lightly, making the smirk widen. Drake dropped the hand and sauntered off into the kitchen.

Hannibal licked dry lips and quickly unclipped the cuffs. In the space of a few days he'd managed to earn himself the attentions of… Dracula… fan-fucking-tastic.

..

"It's too dangerous!" Karen defended.

"I won't do it! I won't create an epidemic…" It was four against one and yet Karen held her own… Outside the room their were countless others, on both sides of the argument, but right now only those present mattered…

"Summerfield tested daystar, she said it was safe." Abbey pushed, but Karen wasn't cracking.

"Her testing regiment was flawed… she didn't…"

"What could possibly happen…" Abbey snorted.

"Anything… I still have dozens of more tests to conduct, and I don't like what I'm seeing so far." Karen explained.

"I'm sorry to tell you guys but, a lot of Summerfield's work was based on presumptions and theory's. Even with proper testing there's still a lot that… and it's just plain risky… a lab is not the world… Once something like this is let out…"

The room fell into a kind of off-kilter silence…

"Sorry but I just won't… I won't let something like this just fall to the grace of god…" Karen scowled.

"It was Summerfield's work that stole!" Abbey snapped.

"And you have no right keeping it!" She huffed and stalked from the room, door slamming, it's glass pane cracking in her wake.

"Things are going really well! I just…" Naomi mumbled, thumbing towards the door. She skittered from the room, tension hanging thick and unpleasant in the air. Trevor, a skinny stick of a guy, with lank dark hair was now the only other bystander in the room. He was an assistant lab tech and looked like he was desperately trying to edge towards the door.

"Daystar, has it been manufactured yet." Blade asked, simply as though none of the previous argument had happened.

"Some samples in the lab." Trevor offered, Karen's head whipping back to glare at him.

"Give them to me."

"No! Trevor don't move!" Karen ordered.

"Blade you can't just come in here and start giving's orders."

"Go get the virus!" He said around her… Talking like she wasn't even present. Just like always.

"Don't move!" Karen shouted, cheeks flaring red.

"I'll get it then…" He sighed…

"No…" Karen moved in front of him, moved with him when he tried to step around.

"Get out of my way." He growled. She was so alive… Just as he remembered her… Everything he'd ever wanted just within reach…

"Or I'll move you!" He threatened. She shook her head.

"I'm warning you Blade don't touch me!" She said coolly, still as obstinate as she'd always been.

He shoved her lightly and she punched him, elbow up, her hand a flicker in front of his face, knuckles hard against his mouth.

**Chapter Ten**

Midnight Aches 

Zoe stared up at the screen, her eyelids feeling sore and heavy. Usually she would be asleep by now, tucked into her bed with pink sheets and rose patterned doona cover. With her fluffy pillow and her mother's kiss upon her forehead… But like Dorothy she was far from home… she'd been taken by the Gnome King, only he called himself Drake, which made not a bit of difference because he was even worse than the Gnome King from her book. He'd stolen her away to his kingdom where night and day had no bearing. Where she could eat chocolate for breakfast and go to bed whenever she liked… or not at all, if she wanted. Because as nice as Andrea was, she wasn't anything like a mother… wasn't anything like her mother.

Zoe feels tears pool behind her eyes and sobs pull at her throat. But she squints and swallows them down, quickly wiping away the single tear that escapes to trickle down her cheek. She brushes it off, because she can't cry… maybe later, when she's buried beneath the covers of her new bed, but not now. Not when she's sitting at the end of a large lounge chair with Drake or the Gnome King, she can't decide which he really is… They all call him Drake but… he seems like the Gnome King, since she doubts he has ever tried to be good… But whatever he is, he's curled up in her lap. Like the kitten she'd once had, lazy and sedate and almost harmless, head resting on the pillow on her curled legs.

The movie that they're watching, Serenity, blurs in front of her eyes, tears misting her vision. Zoe buries her face in the arm of the chair, squeezing her eyes shut. She can't cry or… anything because King's still here… Her mother isn't, but he is and King is all Zoe has left… and she has to be strong. She has to not upset the Gnome King or else he'll hurt the only thing Zoe has left of home. She has to protect King… So she swallows her tears and pets gently at his head, fingers running across soft hair, so much like Coral the cat's. She doesn't let her nails dig in the way they want to, because she has to be strong, even though it's very hard…

King and Abbey took her to a circus once, the kind with clowns and animals and Zoe had loved it. Until she'd eaten a bit too much ice-cream and had felt sick. She was fine though after King picked her up and spun her around. She'd thrown up all across the front of his shirt and had felt better, King just joking and laughing like he always did! She feels like that again though, sick like she's eaten too much ice-cream… Only throwing up hasn't helped it this time, nothing has and it's an empty kind of sickness now. It's eating her up from the inside out, clawing and nibbling, making the pit in her stomach wider and wider…

Zoe pressed harder against the chair exhaustion creeping up to claim her; nightmares starting to dance beneath closed lids.

..

"Oh isn't that cute!" Andrea smiled as the end credits flicked up. It wasn't really… Or at least it wasn't to King… Zoe was curled up asleep, with Drake by her side, he eyes closed, breathing slow, though whether he was actually asleep was up for debate.

"Just leave her there, she'll be fine." King gritted his teeth… He didn't particularly want to leave Zoe on a lounge with the man who murdered her mother… Did Zoe even know she was gone? Of course she did, Zoe was perceptive, knowing always sparking just behind her eyes.

King rubbed his eyes and brought his hands up through his tousled hair… sighing. Really it didn't make a difference, on the lounge, in another room, in another state… It didn't matter King could do nothing to protect Zoe from the creature sleeping next to her. Actually she was probably safer on the lounge with him, since then at least Danica and crew wouldn't have the guts to lay a hand on her…

..

Hands pulled at her… Left scratches upon her arms and legs… and screams echoed through the darkness. The sounds of her mother dying… Zoe's breath whooshed in and out of her lungs, her pulse pounding behind her ears, drowning out everything but those cries…

..

Drake drifted somewhere between awake and asleep, it wasn't true unconsciousness, but was still quite a nice respite from the world. Sound drifted in lightly, footsteps drifting away, as King and Andrea no doubt headed off to bed… Or perhaps Andrea would go out… She had yet to sleep since he'd turned her… Eventually she would have to give in and rest. But for the moment she fought it, she preferred to watch all the new stars in the sky… She liked to feel the grass in the park with new skin… Watching children frolic in the sunshine with new eyes… Drake would scold the sentimentality of this if it weren't the same reaction he'd had after years spent in the dark… He pushed the thought away, if he wanted to take walks down memory lane… He'd actually sleep.

Zoe stirs softly beside him, some indefinable amount of time later and mumbles, small hand rubbing across her face. He can hear the soft swish of skin on skin. Zoe shuffles closer to the chair and sniffles, Drake starting and sitting up when she suddenly jerks and cries out. Sobs escape her lips and tears streak her face suddenly, pouring from eyes, which are still shut in sleep.

Drake wraps large hands around her trembling shoulders, frowning as her hands clasp fervently at his wrists, leaving raised welts with her nails.

"Zoe." He shakes her gently and her eyes pull open slowly, lashes wet and sticking, tears flowing more freely. Her gaze is glassy at first, unclouding with relief as she realises the nightmare's over. Tears still trickling though because reality isn't looking much better… and those huge blue eyes go metallic with hate and Drake isn't surprised because it's not the first time he's receive such a withering glare. Only the rest weren't from children so small, nor did he ever feel that pang of ever-real guilt before.

Those delicate little hands bawl into fists and she lunges at him…

"I hate you, I hate you!" And it's a broken tormented little scream.

..

King woke up to hysterical shouting, dulled by the distance between himself and it. Yet it was still high and childlike and so distinctly Zoe's. King tossed back the covers and bolted from the room, heart in his throat. During his years with Danica he'd seen some truly horrific things and yet what was in the lounge made him freeze halfway into the room. It made his mouth hung open in shock… Zoe… Sweet little Zoe, who'd cried for hours after she'd accidentally stepped on a ladybug and crushed it, was shrieking and pummelling Drake.

"I hate you! You took her and I hate you…" She screamed and the elder, his usual quick, acidic sarcasm, had been traded in for a look caught between blankness and confusion.

His hands hovered somewhere above Zoe's shaking shoulder's as though he were afraid to touch her, for fear she shatter into so many unfixable shards… Maybe he was right…

Hannibal started to life and stumbled across the room, pulling Zoe from Drake, the tiny girl having reddened his lip and left raking nail marks down his left cheek.

"Let go!" She screamed frantically, shoving at his arms as he lifted her away from the other.

"I wanna hurt him!" She growled, trying to squirm from King's arms and he could've cried right then and there because it was so ugly to hear something like that coming from her mouth.

Zoe gave one last heave and then sagged in his arms panting lifelessly. Hannibal fell down halfway up a flight of stairs with her, Zoe turning and curling up in his chest, sobbing slowly.

"I want her back!" She wept, voice small and dry.

..

Drake sat, just where and how he'd been whilst still holding the girl, watching as Hannibal soothed her slowly. Listening too her plaintive little cries and rubbing her shaking arms.

"And I wanted to help her, but I was too scared…" She sobbed.

"I'm still scared…"

"Me too." King shushed and not just to make her feel better.

"But your mum loved you more than anything and she would be so proud of how brave your being and so would Abbey." He breathed, pulling the gold chain from around his neck. The one Danica had presented to him as proof of the girl's demise… A lie Drake knew, she'd taken it from an empty room. Another deception… Another cut in Drake pride… or was it something else that was wounded.

"Here… you can give this back to her, the next time you see her." Zoe excepted the chain, draped over her head, wordlessly, perhaps because she like him knew that they probably wouldn't get to that point. Neither gave it voice… and they sat in silence until Zoe slipped back asleep.

..

"Drake? What happened?" Andrea questioned, slipping into the room. He was still frozen on the lounge and King was splayed out on the stair. Her hands flittered before his face and Drake grabbed them before they could stroke or fuss over his face and shoulders… other than that he was sullen and silent, turning away from her.

For a moment she looked lost, then spotting the two on the stair, she padded up and looked them over. Zoe was sound asleep and King was white and shaking, almost violently.

"Hey, why don't you put her in bed and I'll make you some tea… and… scotch." She offered.

..

_**The walls were cold and rough, carved out stone. The air was thick with moisture and that unmistakable scent that came with being buried beneath the earth. There was just that, the four walls of his cell and darkness, an endless gaping void, to keep him company… Amourway… Oh god, his lifeline, Amourway, who ventured down to the pit whenever her husband wouldn't miss her. Amourway, beautiful, brave, Amourway, who, stolen into his pit with a compassionate voice and a gentle hand. Who'd taught him to read and write… Who'd kept him from starvation and madness…**_

_**Oh… god… Amourway… only there was no god, no angel's… and the fire had been so hot on his face, it had blistered his hands as he'd pulled at the flaring embers.**_

Drake gasped as he bolted forward in the chair, burying his head in his hands. His pulse usually so slow and steady was fluttering behind his eyes. There is an Amourway… no more. And there has never, ever been a god, not for me… He reminded himself… The dream fading and he's shocked that sleep actually took him… Crept up through his senses and overcame him. How long for… Not long, because Andrea and King are still down in the kitchen. He is by Zoe's bed, watching her sleep. At least he had been, he looks up now to find her watching him.

She sitting up at the top of her bed, staring almost blankly on the cusp of bewilderment. How long had she been that way? She looks sedate know, not calm, but truly, completely and utterly exhausted.

Zoe stares blandly, she still aches from the ragged hole left in her heart by her mother, but is too tired to fly at him again… she's almost to tired to care at all. She feels washed out, worn down, burnt up, like so much crumpling ash. She's almost too tired even to ask…

"Who's Amourway?" Curiosity pushes her forward, into another battle of wills and words with the vampire lord. His look almost displays surprise…

"You cried out for her." Zoe says mutely.

"No one." There's a careful guard about his voice as though he's afraid of giving something away.

"You are not a Gnome King." Zoe says finally realising the truth of it.

"Oh, no…" Drake smiles somewhat, lazily. Talk of Gnome King's putting him at ease.

"No." She drones.

"And why is that?"

"Because Gnome King's have no feelings to hurt."

"Oh really… and what makes you think I have feeling to hurt." He parroted.

"You were crying…" Drake couldn't still the hand that moved to the suddenly present wetness on his cheeks… How had he not noticed that before… He could barely meet the small girl's eyes…

Zoe peered at him a moment longer and then her eyes clouded with pain and she curled into a ball.

"I miss my mum." She sobbed.

Drake stumbled from the room, trying desperately to keep his feet beneath him. Her sobs followed him, as well as her words. You were crying… They taunted him, pushed him… Right into King who was storming the other way with Andrea at his heels…

Drake couldn't stand the tension between the two, it was palpable and having it twine with his own anger, made his head throb.

King looked at him, puzzlement pencilled in quite clearly, then to Zoe's room at the end of the hall, sobs still soft but insistent. Anger flared across King's face and he grabbed at the other. Drake holding him at arm's length…

"If you've touched her!" It was an empty threat, underlaid by fury and… disgust! Then understanding snapped into place and cleared the fog right out of his head.

"That! With a child…" Drake snarled with his own undercurrent of revulsion and could tell by the heated look from Hannibal that he was right in his assumption.

Even more astonishing was that he was actually offended by it. That he couldn't just toss it off with a nasty comment and sneer. He actually cared that the boy thought so little of him… Thought… that of him.

"You've probably done worse!" King snapped, arms being gripped rather painfully.

"I've." Drake bit off the denial, because in no world would he ever have to explain himself to… Still it was on the tip of his tongue, hot truths, of how he'd never forced anyone to tend to his wants, let alone torn strips of innocence from children… King pulled his arms from his grip, glare still scalding, if a little less accusing.

"Fine, you want to judge me… Then let's see how faultless your precious humans truly are!"


	6. Human Cruelty

**A/N: Yeah I still don't have any publishing rights... drats... By the way guys I'm sorry for this in advance not really much happens and it's a little short... But its was really hard to write believe it or not. Its more of a segway than actual story. But I will be back soon with more. More hannibal and drake kisses and more karen and blade... another stumper to write okay BIGKISS enjoy. I hope its not to big a dissappointment.  
Also just two things Andrea is the goth girl from the shop Drake kind of trashes, in case anyone was wondering... I dont generally do OC's I'm just too lazy. And yes there is no Chapter Two... My dog ate it... No actually chapter three should be two but i'm an idiot so... sorry...**

**Chapter Eleven**

_**Human Cruelty**_

_How is one to live a moral and compassionate existence when one is fully aware of the blood, the horror inherent in life, when one finds darkness not only in one's culture but within oneself? If there is a stage at which an individual life becomes truly adult, it must be when one grasps the irony in its unfolding and accepts responsibility for a life lived in the midst of such paradox. One must live in the middle of contradiction, because if all contradiction were eliminated at once life would collapse. There are simply no answers to some of the great pressing questions. You continue to live them out, making your life a worthy expression of leaning into the light.  
Barry Lopez

* * *

_

Hannibal shivered, more from the dark loneliness and sharp quiet playing havoc on his nerves than actual cold. No even though the air was on the frosty side of tepid the massive leather coat that added to his discomfort kept him warm. Added to his discomfort because of who was its usual wearer, the scent deep and rich and spicy and teasing along his senses.

Said owner was several paces in front of him… but considering the vampire's steady ignoring of him they might as well have been on other planets.

The further they traveled the dirtier and more disreputable the streets became. Yet the only thing King has to worry about is the vampire steps in front of him.

King shied and buried himself further into the coat as a particularly nasty breeze kicked up, that bitter sweet smell tingled across him stronger than ever. King shook his head trying to clear it and almost walked straight into the other as Drake stopped suddenly. King was about to ask why when he noticed a metal door set into the brick wall.

Drake knocked steadily for a moment and then the hand dropped back to his side. King's interest piqued when a guy, massive and menacing looking, but obviously human opened the door a crack.

"Can I help you?" There was an accent that Hannibal couldn't quite place and a moment later when Drake's hand closed around the edge of the door and slammed it back into the close cropped head with enough forced to send blood splattering he didn't really suppose it mattered. Drake shoved the door open fully, the body sliding out of the way with a grotesquely normal noise.

Inside was not what King was expecting… a long almost hospital-like corridor… smelling of bleach and cleanliness and yet at the same time not… there was something dirty underlying it. It seemed to be in the very air itself and King didn't want to breathe to deep for fear of it tainting his lungs.

Further down the corridor there were rooms… locked with deadbolts… King shivered as he peered through the piece of glass and found the room bare, small cots and nothing… Reminding him strongly of a metal institution... Is that what this is?

King stopped as he stumbled passed an open door, Drake continuing on down the hall. He stepped inside the depressing little cell, looking over the white walls and bared furnishings… There was nothing exceptional about the room, a small cot, a dresser and a lamp. Nothing more, plain white sheets which were pulled up halfway, neat and pressed and just a gnawing not-rightness about all of it.

It was then that he spotted it, small and spindly and delicate, hidden between the metal bed frame and wall. A tiny yellow sun… and the gnawing turned to churning… something was really off.

Something large and metallic clatter somewhere outside and King suddenly noticed the muffed shouts that had started a few minutes ago. He stepped but outside and hurried down after the vampire. King pushed inside a door at the end of the corridor and stopped dead, carnage and blood, red in so many varying shades it made his head spin. King leaned against the wall, realizing that he was standing in a thin pool off… well he could only guess really and that was bad enough.

Body's were laid out next to each other, creating a carpet of dead flesh and spilled innards… limbs twisted so hard they were no longer attached to a body.

Through the haze of red, King noticed the cameras. Noticed the obscene stage set up as a child's room. The pretty flowery furniture and bed lit brightly by huge spotlight overhead and strangely untouched by blood. It was surreal and King felt his stomach sinking like a stone. He knew it and yet at the same terrible time couldn't, simply couldn't believe it.

"What is this?" King's eyes pleaded with him to tell him something other than the truth.

"Humanity at its very best…" Drake sneered because he was not the boys shelter.

King looked back at the mocking scene and felt a deep pit open in his stomach. He knew by the room what was going on and even if that hadn't tipped him off the girl who couldn't have been any older than Zoë cowering on the bed in nothing but flowery underwear would have been a slap in the face.

King took a step through the mush towards her, the elders hand curling around his wrist.

"I'm going to help her!" King explained.

"And to think you'll only terrify her." Drake said blandly.

"What do I…"

"Police… aren't they usually the ones who handle such things." Drake passed King over a cell phone and the other didn't even bother with the absurdity of someone like Drake actually owning one. King's fingers found the buttons numbly.

"911 what is your emergency?" King could feel a hysterical laugh tug at she throat at the seemingly strange question. What wasn't an emergency these days?

"There's been an accident…" The words slid out easily.

"241 Bria Street." Drake sighed and King repeated it quickly no more no less and then hung up.

"It was his…" Drake explained as King tried to hand the phone back to him. The elder nodded vaguely in the direction of the piled bodies and King tossed it into the seeping blood.

"Time to go." Drake informed, as Hannibal's hand wrapped around his shoulder, shivers tracking along his frame… strange since Drake could feel heat trickling of him in steady waves.

"What about her." King frowned looking at the shaking pile onto of the bed. Drake cast a glance in her direction before continuing out of the gore.

"She's survived this long." He said simply. Hannibal spared the girl one last glance before he too stepped back into the hall. He started up it after the vampire, even though it didn't matter how far from it he got, he'd be carring that room with him for the rest of his life.


	7. YesNo

**A/N: Hey guys... sorry this took like forever... I'm writing this NCIS fic and the reviewers won't let me leave! No really though I was at one of those points where ya know you either go this way or that way with the story... and I just couldn't decide how I wanted it to play... Thankyou to my reviewers though and to Nate who has reminded me about my CSI fic... again sorry guys... Cheers.**

**Chapter Twelve**

_**Yes/No…**_

_Healthy, lusty **sex** is wonderful_

_John Wayne_

* * *

Andrea had noticed his blood-stained hands, the vivid red was hard to miss… and even if she ha if fact missed it, the smell was itself was as bright and hot as embers. Yet Hannibal had returned with him, with no apparent injures… so Andrea didn't care that the other had dried blood upon his hands.

She made herself coffee, in the pristine kitchen, with Drake sitting slumped at the table, hands clasped in front of him. She prattled on and on about unimportant things, when what she really wanted to ask was what had happened. Her father was sullen and quiet and Hannibal… he was up on the roof, presumably brooding as well… Had been up there since they'd arrived back.

Her interested was piqued to say the least and yet she would get no answers if she asked. At least not now, while the wounds were still so fresh… Best to let things heal a little first. Some things though couldn't be left in such a state. So she prattles for a little longer about meaningless things and then…

"You know you can't keep them right!" Is thrown in with how she would really like to see Paris.

"It's got a lot to do with the lights… I've heard the whole city is like one big beacon… that…" She tries to move on without pause, but now he's looked up to stare at her.

"… you know it's true…" She finishes smoothly and is the only person in centuries who has dared to talk to him in such a manner.

"It hurts her to be so close to you." Andrea said with a note of sadness and it was that precise moment that Drake realized just how motherly she felt towards the girl.

"I can understand why you murdered her mother… But keeping her is cruel… And-and King… well it's only a matter of time before Danica does something stupid… and…" She let the sentence hang, moving to pick needlessly at her nails.

"Well since all of those things are only my business…" She pouted, subtly, but still he could see it… Finicky child that she was, regrettably she had a point.

-.-.-

King looked out over the city, lights bright and oblivious… twinkling merrily despite what there light shone down on. What it left alone in darkened corners…

They were people, humans, just guys… Hannibal couldn't seem to get his head straight. What those guys had done, he couldn't get his head around it! Kids… they were just kids, like Zoë.

Hannibal turned and started as he almost walked into the elder.

"Jesus…" He sighed.

"Easy…" Hands went up to cup his shoulders.

"I'm fine."

"You don't look it."

"I'm just tired." A hand went up to card through his hair. There was a time when he would've flinched over such a move. Only a few hours ago though he'd been on his back moaning for the other. So the flinching part of the relationship was probably long past. He'd accepted what he was to Danica a long time ago, this wasn't any different.

"Then you should be sleeping, instead of lurking about draughty building tops." King pulled the hand from his hair, cupped it in his palms.

"They deserved that end." Drake said and the other tracked fingers over the sticky stain. King couldn't argue over it, he killed enough familiars himself. They were technically human… even though sell-out could also be applied.

"I'm sending you home." King's eyes flicked up, with almost a trace of apprehension.

"You and Zoë." He explained and the eyes dropped, tongue flicking out to wet dry lips.

"Oh…"

"You sound disappointed."

"No I just-" King cut himself short.

"I'll arrange for a car tomorrow… until then you need to sleep." King's head spun with the rapid change. Up until now all he could think about was how to get Zoë out. Now they were going, just like that. King watched as the other turned and started back inside. They were leaving…

-.-.-

King was still dazed when he stumbled into the others room. At a loss to find it empty, though in truth he wasn't quite sure why he was there in the first place. He went in further and sat on the edge of a canopied bed. He leaned forward on his knees; he felt jet-lagged and probably was. Or at least something close to it. He hadn't slept nearly enough hours in the last few days and the times he slept were all messed up, early morning, late afternoon… It threw everything off.

He needed sleep hell he just plain wanted to sleep… He pushed himself back onto the bed, so his legs were still over the side… Why not? They'd already share fluids… why not a bed…

-.-.-

"You're letting him go!" She sniveled. Following him like some kind of insect, insipid and annoying. She even had run to keep up with his long strides and still she persisted

"How do you even know that?" He snorted, amazed for once over the resourcefulness shown. He shouldn't have been surprised really though, because if not her then one of her little groupie's were usually hanging about every single cracked door.

"You're letting them go. Why?" She demanded and started as he spun abruptly and caught her wrist, twisting it.

"Explain very quickly how that is your concern… along with why you would think it would ever be okay to demand things of me." He spat, rubbed raw already by the night's previous events.

"He's mine." She hissed and he twisted harder.

"He's mine… Mine to fuck, mine to kill… Mine to let go… or anything else that I wish…" He snarled.

"You never knew what to do with him even when he was yours…" He snorted and threw her arm down.

"You can talk lover…" She hissed.

"Haven't heard you making him scream." Drake smirked, not bothering to point out how wrong she was.

"Have you had him on his knees yet… on his back…?" She sneered, circling him while doing it.

"What's wrong love… just not up to it?" She pouted mockingly, stopping to rub a leg across the inside of his thigh.

"Or has King gone a little frigid… He use to be such a tempting little whore t-" The sentence cut off abruptly as Drake backhanded her. His hand moved to grip her hair.

"That is the very last time you will ever call him 'whore'." He snapped. There was fear clearly on display in her eyes… something else as well… clarity maybe…

"Oh it can't be…" She mumbled.

"What?" He was down to his very last thread with her.

-.-.-

Drake seethed with what Danica had accused him of. He sent a table toppling over as he passed it out of shear petulance. He stalked into his room and stopped dead. The boy was on his bed…


	8. Maybe

**A/N: Thankyou to all my darling reviewers. Heres my next bit... short but well... hhhhmmm... children may want to skip... I don't think its particularly explicit but hey... I'm a perv so... more soon. Cheers.**

**Chapter Thirteen**

_**Maybe…**_

_All great lovers are articulate, and verbal **seduction** is the surest road to actual **seduction**_

_Marya Mannes_

* * *

Drake pulled the boys shoes off and moved him further onto the bed. He stirred slightly, rubbed his face and then dropped back off. Drake slid off the edge of the bed. He kicked his boots off by the bed with King's and slid the heavy jacket off his shoulders. Sighing at the feel of bare carpet on his feet, loving the air against his arms. The leather was tossed aside onto a chair, along with his shirt and belt. He considered dicing the pants as well, he never felt right dressed. Never felt really comfortable. 

He reached for the bottles of alcohol that decorated the top of a corner table. Drunk as not something he could manage, but he had a soft spot for vodka, since the summer he'd spent in Russia in 1692.

The taste was fresh and, something else he couldn't quite define. Menthol maybe, mint… something hot and airy.

Danica's idiotic sipping, from a crystal glass flashed through his mind. He swallowed straight from the bottle. He fell back to lean lazily against the wall, plaster cool on his back. His eyes tracked over the boy, slumped so casually on his bed.

He smirked and climbed up next to the prone form, bottle in hand. Danica had something of a point; he'd held himself back quite long enough.

Drake felt his expression slip into a smile, the boy's hand was tossed up over his head, he looked younger when he slept, sweet. The muscular stomach, on display because his shirt was rigged up under his arms looked like it should belong to someone much older.

Drake leaned beside the other and tilted the bottle, watching the clear fluid drip onto his stomach. It fell into beads and trickles, slowly sliding down, filling his navel. He dropped his head down, tongue snaking out and dipping into the divot, the warm dryness that wrapped itself around his tongue now laced with a taste vaguely like aniseed.

He felt King stir jerkily and placed a hand along the narrow hip, to stop him from moving too far. Stomach muscles clenched as he propped himself up onto an elbow, sending a small line of liquid down to pool along the waist of his pants. Drake ignored it, lips suckling along the dip that led down his stomach. Drake didn't to look at the boy to tell he was open-mouthed; it was clear by the way he moaned when the other's tongue thrust back into his navel, teeth nibbling the flesh rimming it. Drake's mouth dipped down further, lapping up the stray line, tongue darting beneath the waist of the boy's pants.

"What're you doing?" He finally got after a startled little choking noise. Drake pulled back and licked his lips. Dragging his tongue over languidly, watching eyes darken a shade.

"Couldn't find a glass." He says casually, and leans back against the bed, gazing lazily at the other, who's currently working himself up.

"Well by all means just, use me then."

"You're upset?" Drake pouted and teased.

"Ya think…" Drake bit back a laugh and pulled himself back up.

"Well then perhaps in future you won't invite yourself into my bed." King flinched at the statement.

"What are you doing in my bed?" He couldn't resist the dig. He opened his mouth, took a breath and… managed not a word. Blush creeping up, staining his cheeks.

"Anything close to this?" Drake asked leaning over the other.

"Is that how we're playing?" He laughed as King titled his face away from the kiss. The elder nipped lightly at his throat instead, loving that it drew a shiver.

"That's not what I'm here for."

"Can't see many other reasons myself."

"Maybe you should think harder." He shifted restlessly as lips closed over his collarbone.

"Oh, I think, everything around here is more than sufficiently rigid." He stroked a hand down over the obvious bulge and King's breath caught.

"But… of course…" His hand flicked open King's pant button.

"Your not here for 'this'." He teased and leaned in to give kissing another try. King pulled away again.

"I have bad breath." He stumbled.

"And yet somehow I'll live." Drake cupped his face and molded his mouth to the pursed lips. They opened obligingly and Drake sunk his tongue into the wet heat… Quite a bit wetter but not entirely different than the alcohol he just drank, spicy and hot. His hand continued to wander, pulled down a metal zip, to disappear inside too tight pants.

King whimpered and broke the kiss, panting as the finger stroked from the tip of said rigidness down to the base. He lifted his hips as the hand pushed his pants down to his knees and then sucked warm fingers into his mouth without thinking when they grazed his bottom lip.

Drake pulled them back and caught his mouth again, tongue flicking across King's lips. His hand slid back down between his thighs and King choked on a cry as a finger slid into him. He skittered out from under Drake and sat up, ankles lying beneath the elders chest.

"Shit, I'm sorry, I didn't…" It had been almost a knee jerk reaction and now King felt incredibly stupid.

"How long?" King looked at him and realized that he knew… how he knew was a big a mystery as everything else about him was, but still, he knew. King swallowed the embarrassment.

"Too long… I shouldn't still be this…" He should be over it, should have it filed away with everything else.

"Well if I had had to sleep with Danica on a regular basis, I'd be frigid too." King frowned and then smiled.

Drake reached out a hand, relieved when the boy didn't shy away.

"You need to-" Sleep… Only he was cut off by a hesitant kiss.

"And what was that?"

"A- kiss…" Drake looked at him, then pulled the boy down on top of him.

"You're very odd." He said, stretching out, hands resting above his head, King left sprawled across his chest.

"Oh… I'm odd!" He pushed himself up with a hand on the other's chest and looked down at the relaxed form.

"Very much so." King caught the hands in his, holding them down and Drake let him. He leaned in again and gave another, slight peck. He looked worried when he pulled back.

"Is this… okay?" Hannibal knew, absolutely knew that the other won't be under him if he didn't want to be… but…

"Do whatever you want with me." He shrugged and King felt his mouth go dry, was he just taking it the wrong way or did that mean… Drake grinned and slid out from under the other, easily.

He pulled off his pants as he'd wanted to earlier and retrieved a small glass bottle from out of the dresser… tossing it on the bed next to King…

"I'll do whatever you tell me to."


	9. Top Or Bottom?

**A/N: Hey all! Sorry about the slow update... But for me sex scene are possibly the hardest thing to write... I just think that if you ever write anything out of character or tacty... or just plain embarrassing... chances are its the sex scene... Hhhhmmm same as relationships I suppose... Oh well hope I don't make anyone laugh, to loud. Thankyou to my reviewers. As usually I don't think this is particularly bad but children pleaase forgo this chapter... I promise we will be back to an actual story line next chapter... Cheers.**

**Chapter Fourteen**

_**Top Or Bottom?**_

_And why is it that some men just can't deal with the idea that a smart, together, professional like me can actually deserve their respect and still want to be thrown down on the couch now and then?_

* * *

King tried to find words, but just ended up sitting there, mute, the air seemed too thick for his lungs. Drake, was standing before him… tanned skin and hard muscled planes… offering to do whatever he wanted.

"You don't know what you want do you?" King's cheeks colored. Of course he knew what he wanted. Half of him wanted to bolt and the other half wanted rough, sweaty, grinding sex. The kind that left you aching and spent and completely detached from the world. He wanted not to have to think and obsess and consider, for just five damn seconds because he'd been stupid enough to pick up Danica in a bar one disastrous night.

"Kiss me…" Drake couldn't hold back the smile.

"Kiss you…" Drake stepped to the edge of the bed, Hannibal pulling himself up onto his knees.

"You have to learn to ask for what you actually want…" He said coolly.

"For instants… am I meant to kiss you here…" Drake raked teeth lightly over the skin beneath King's ear, lips closing over after.

"Or here…" He gave the other side a nip.

"What about here…" His mouth dropped down and closed over the hallow below his throat, sucking slowly, pulse fluttering against his lips.

"Or maybe somewhere else entirely." King bit his lip as hands gripped his hips, thumbs splayed out towards the middle of his belly. They kneaded lightly up and down, drawing a gruff little moan.

"That's not kissing." He groaned, shocked when Drake's hand immediately dropped and the other stepped away a little… half a step maybe.

"How impetuous of me… I apologize of course…" He practically laughed.

His arms stay loosely at his side as he moved back, kissing him softly. King sighed into the caress, hands creeping up to rest against hard shoulders.

Drake's lips slipped from his and trailed down his throat, King leaned back into it, baring his throat, forgetting who he was with for a second.

He pulled away with a startled little cry when he felt teeth, a red welt decorating the top of his collarbone, Drake's teeth still dulled. King looked awkward and embarrassed eyes drifting listlessly about the room. Drake cupped his cheek.

"Do you trust me?"

"God no."

"Smart boy… If I really wanted to, I could take you. But I want you willing…" King swallowed, gulping down air.

"I want to…"

"I'm not going to hurt you." Drake pushed a nail beneath his throat, the skin parted easily, blood welling along the slice.

"Won't that…"

"You'll still be human tomorrow."

"Then what's…"

"It's a nice rush… I've been told." King leaned up, hands steadying himself against the others chest. His tongue glanced over the pooling red, wound already replaced by smooth skin.

It was a deeper flavor, more almond than metallic. King could almost fool himself into thinking it wasn't actually blood. But there was still that hot sharp rust like edge that was the same in everyone…

It tingled at first, leaving a vaguely chemical after-burn when he swallowed, sending the fluttering feeling pouring down his throat. It reminds him of all the sherbet he use to down as a child and the citric acid that use to leave his tongue numb and aching.

It spreads like alcohol, only faster, heat blossoms in his stomach, limbs feeling light… the strange static of white noise pouring behind his ears.

Drake hisses a moan as a tongue's replaced by teeth. More blood brought to the surface. He threads a hand through blonde strands and pushes the other back onto the bed. Watching as King licks the inside of his mouth over and over, swallowing repeatedly.

"It's never felt like this before." He confesses hands stroking up and down his own arms. It was like every nerve in his body was straining towards wherever was touched.

Drake watched in amusement as King struggled out of his tangled pants, fingers tracking along his thighs, across the curve of a pale cheek. The hands made there way back up and pinched a rosy peaked nipple. King shuddered, Drake smirking as he watched pearly drops of pre-come bead on the tip of King's erection.

He leaned across and caught them on his tongue, King giving a sharp gasp and looking at him with hooded eyes. King smirked and locked his arms behind the elder's neck. Pulling them both down to lay out flat. Drake groped about for the bottle of oil. Lips caught with King's… tongue dipping in and out of the hot cavern, tongues thrusting against each other. His fingers closed over the chilled glass and he fumbled to uncap it, oil spilling messily over Hannibal's stomach.

Drake tossed the vial aside and dipped his hand into the pooling fluid. Aniseed and Vanilla curling through the air. King whimpered into his mouth, hips thrusting up as fingers brushed lightly over his ridged length. They dipped down lower and slick digits slipped back inside him. He bit Drake's lips as they found his prostate, rubbing slowly over the hard nub. Teasing for a few precious seconds.

He gave a low whine as they pulled out. Drake moved back, smirking down at the flustered body. The expression turned from annoyed to rapturous as Drake straddled his hips sliding down the slick cock. Moaning at how it felt to be filled, not a position he been in for a while.


	10. Blooded Kisses

**A/N: Hello all, sorry about the slow updates and the short chapter, kind of hit some writers block with this story... I'm working at it though... Thanks to Nate, Bittersweet Words, Lesbian-Lover and Kayyasha1 for reviewing. A special thanks to Juju and Adrain... for the reviews and prompting. Hope ya all enjoy... **

**Chapter Fifteen**

_**Blooded Kisses**_

_I kissed thee ere I killed thee -- no way but this,  
Killing myself, to die upon a kiss._

_William Shakespeare_

* * *

King tips the juice in his cup from side to side, watching the orange fluid shift, trying to sort out his head. I was impossible though, he'd spent last night willingly in bed with Drake. What the hell did he think he was doing, what had he done? His hand tightened around the glass to the point where he was surprised it didn't shatter.

"Don't do that." Drake said from behind him.

"What?" King asked voice steady despite himself, quite use to being crept up on by now.

"It was just sex." The vampire says simply, fingers going to rest beneath Hannibal's chin. He brushed away the hand.

"I shouldn't have done what I did." He rambles, feeling at a loss and unsure of why. Drake was right, it was sex, nothing more and both he and Zoë were leaving. Zoë… this thing had murdered her mother and he'd enjoyed the touch.

"Your friends will never know." Drake sighed neutrally, unmoved by the admission.

"I'll know."

"I suppose you will." The stubbornly cool detached veneer is back in place, firmly and King wishes he could somehow backhand it off.

"Why did you kill them?" Hannibal asks trying to reason away his anger.

"They would've killed me." Drake explained what he really didn't feel needed explaining. He wondered what the other could possibly want from him; he couldn't change what had already happened.

"Because you're a monster." Drake pushes away the thought that he might actually be hurt by the statement; he tilts the other's head up.

"I never claimed to be anything else." Again his hand is brushed aside.

"No, you didn't." Hannibal sighs realizing that at no point did the vampire trick him into going to bed with him. His mistake and he'll live with it.

"It hardly-" The sentence was cut off by an odd metallic clanging in the next room, followed by a dull thud.

"What now?" Drake huffs, pushing passed King, stalking through to the lounge.

King follows the elder.

"Has Danica finally tripped off her ridiculously high heels?" He digs because he can.

The reality he finds is much less amusing and the sight before him will be brunt into his eyes forever. A piece of the rail has come loose on the catwalk, Zoë is lying sprawled out beneath it, one of the short copper spines, that Danica has had built into the floor along the wall as artwork, jutting out from her stomach.

-.-.-

"Come in." Karen comes as a low knock comes from the outside of her door.

"I'm not changing my mind Blade." She says folding piece of clothing, the half vampire's head appearing around the opening door. He steps inside and closes it behind him.

"Daystar is dangerous… and yes I'm biased because my son is part vampire and I'd be lying if I said that that didn't play into reservations. But there are other problems as well." She sighed.

"Is that why you left?" She looked over the careful neutral expression.

"Because I was pregnant? No." She says dropping the folded pile into her cupboard.

"No I always wanted to tell you about Ethan."

"You didn't." She sighs.

"It's not like you have an address or a phone number." She tried to keep the bitterness from her voice and didn't quite manage.

"You're the one who left." He accuses, voice still that maddening, impartial tone.

"That I am." She says resigning herself, no ones going to win this fight. Neither of them ever could.

"Why?"

"You know why."

"To hang out with other fuzzy bloodsuckers?" He snipes, having noticed that several of the staff are vampires.

"Don't do that. Don't you dare." Karen threatened.

"Deal with your demons on your own time. They are good people." She said, standing across from him, her bed resting between them.

"That was always your problem Blade… I could except that you were half vampire. It was you who had trouble with it." She said folding her arms across her chest.

"You once told me that every time you took out a vampire, you got a little piece of your life back." She raised her hands as an unconventional shrug.

"So what happens once you've killed them all? And you realize that you are still a vampire." He didn't move at all.

"Just gonna jump off that bridge when you come to it? You will never be able to cut it out of yourself Blade." Still he simply stared, sunglasses firmly in place.

"What about your son? Do you hate him too? He took on vampyric traits long before puberty you know?" Karen snorted.

"Hell he's ten, he still hasn't reached puberty. Don't know why he's like that; don't know why he's almost as tall as I am. He doesn't have your thirst yet though, heals a little faster than most people. Little quicker, little stronger."

There was another knock, Trevor head poking around the door this time.

"Oh I didn't know you had…" He stuttered.

"What is it?" Karen said shortly.

"There's been a little accident in the lab… Well actually not so much an accident as… that girl Abigail, she's stolen a vial of daystar."


	11. Best Laid Plans

**A/N: Writer's block this is all I can say- that and I'm also not entirely happy with this part, but anyhow, thankyou to everyone who's reviewed and to anyone who's baring with me through these long lapses.**

**Chapter Sixteen**

_**Best-Laid Plans Of Mince And Men**_

_Pale death knocks with impartial foot at poor men's hovels and king's palaces._

_Horace_

* * *

Hannibal doesn't remember moving, can't remember the trip from the door to Zoë's side, but it must have happened because here he is, falling down near her shoulder. Hand running mindlessly along the long length of copper, trying to move it or perhaps willing it to disappear all together, neither of which can he actually accomplish. He chokes a little and his face suddenly feels damp. Much to his disbelieving horror Zoë seems somehow to still be conscious, not screaming or distressed at all really, just blinking slowly, head pushing up a little from the floor to stare blandly down at the wound.

"Zoë don't move just-" His voice gravels and then cracks horribly. His hands hover over her, nothing to do, no idea what to do.

"Oh- that's not right." Zoë frowns looking down at what is, but shouldn't be. People didn't have copper sprouting from their stomachs.

"Just lay still and I can- I don't…" There's tears dripping down his cheeks and Zoë feels sorry for King, he seems so distort and she herself is just thoroughly disappointed, death isn't what she thought it would be. It doesn't feel real. She remembers her mothers' final moments, so clearly, that scream, it's hot and bright and burnt into her memory, but this- she won't remember this. She's slipping off her coil and everything's just getting dimmer. There's no pain, no feeling at all, she lies back like King told her too and stares at the ceiling feeling like she's been laid out inside a shell, something that was her body once.

"I'm going to die." Saying it somehow brings things more in focus, her limbs are cold and heavy, everything is slipping into darkness, there's no bright light, no angels, and that he was right hurts more than anything else ever could.

"No your-" The denial turns to a sob halfway through and his forehead drops down onto his hand resting lightly on her slender shoulder.

"I am I'm-" Her chest starts to heave feebly a faint crackle to her voice.

"King I don't wanna die, I don't- it's cold and dark and I hate the dark and I just don't wanna do it." Her voice shakes as his hand closes around hers, King trying to choke down his own sobs. Not a time to fall to pieces, not now, he pulls in a deep breath and its supposed to be calming when really it fills him with a disturbing clarity. This is it, this is the end, and there's nothing he can do to stop it.

"I don't wanna do this by myself King-please-what if I get lost- I want mom-." She sobbed, trying to wriggle into his lap, sobs coming harder when she was unable to manage it. King pulled himself together and sat up properly, brushing loose strands of hair from her face.

"Its okay baby, you've just gotta be brave and I'll-"

"The copper's stemming her blood-" The voice was calm and deep over King's shoulder; Drake's boots in view beside his curled up legs. There was another larger hitch of her chest, a deep breath, hand going to scrub clean an eye.

"I feel dizzy-" She mumbled and King clutched the small hand tighter in his.

"You don't have to die Zoë." His free hand curled into a fist and he wrenched himself from the floor, Zoë's hand slipping from his grasp.

"Stay the fuck out of this." He said through clenched teeth, anger suddenly boiling over.

"You'd let her die to satisfy your pride?"

"I won't let her become a monster." Of all the insults he's ever flung at the other it's this one which gets him backhanded, his lip splitting with the force, blood dripping down onto his chin.

"You're an arrogant little bastard." Drake growls hand clamping around Hannibal's wrist.

"Fuck you." He spat and Drake spins him so that his arm's twisted painfully to rest against his back.

"The mood I'm in- I very much doubt you'd enjoy it." The elder spat, mouth close to his ear. Hannibal digs his heels in and shoves back against Drake as he's hauled from the lounge, if it posses any inconvenience to the other he doesn't let show.

"This is Zoë's choice. You aren't afforded any say in this." Drake tossed him unceremoniously onto the floor, Hannibal falling to his knees, panting to keep tears from his eyes as he hears a door slam. Knows that its being locked as well- a familiar routine- this isn't the first time he's been thrown into his room like a naughty child- only it's never hurt quite this much before and this time the room isn't his own- its Drake's.

The guilt gnawing steadily at his stomach is replaced by a sharp wave of nausea, as his eyes fall on the bed- he hates what he remembers doing there, hates that he liked it, that he wanted it all by himself- without the other having to force him to it.

His stomach heaves as his mind revolts and draws up fresh memories of his betrayal, King struggling to his feet, trying to push aside the thoughts, his hands shaking violently, he laid them flat against the floor and pushed himself to his feet. Eyeing the bed as though it were something living in need of watching, he paced slowly about the carpeted room, motions calm, and smooth- not how he wanted to be, he wanted to claw at the walls. There was never any end to the bullshit and he was the same spectacular failure he'd been almost a decade ago.

-.-.-

"Where's King?" She asks voice as sluggish as the heart fluttering in her chest.

"He's fine." Drake says offhandedly, an odd edge there that he can't quite define or keep from his voice. He reaches out and snaps the spine off easily a few inches above her belly, tossing it aside with a harsh metallic ring as it strikes the floor.

"Will it hurt?" Zoë mumbles, watching him bite through a vein, blood thick and run, trickling slower than any human's would, he holds the abuse limb out and her fingers come to rest weakly against his.

"I don't know." He admits whilst watching her eyes moving slowly beneath low lids. What choice does she have, this or nothing- some great big known that people never come back from, she knows people can come back from this- King did.

-.-.-

Blade stood impassively as Karen slammed her hand on the labs empty fridge shelf, slamming the door shut a second later.

"She took all of the samples- how did she even get the code for the door." She fumes, dark curls falling into her eyes.

"Actually it looks like she popped off the front and pumped acid into it with one of the glass syringes." Trevor explains brushing long dark slick strands of hair from his face.

"Why weren't you in here?" She demanded shortly, spinning on her heel then to confront blade.

"And you, did you put her up to this."


	12. Tripping Over Yourself

AN: Thanks to all the reviews and encouragement.

**Chapter Seventeen**

_**Tripping Over Yourself**_

_Even God cannot __change__ the past._

_Agathon_

* * *

The night was an odd patchwork of fleeting images. For the first time in her life, Zoë saw the Sistine Chapel, paint fresh on the ceiling, before waking into dimness and more blood.

Egypt some time after that, sand hot on her face, even though it was the moon, not the sun that was high overhead. Roman baths, where the scent of roses teased over steaming water and bodies writhed against sweat-slicked marble.

Dimness again, more blood and the vague wondering of whether she should still be in pain or not. She even nurses the urge to touch her stomach and find out if there's still a wound there for several moments before drifting off again.

There's mud beneath her feet now, scents and sounds of the jungle around her head. Air thick and heavy with water when she inhales, which doesn't happen as often as she's sure it should. There's light somewhere above, filtering down into the rocky crevice with her. The world that she isn't welcome in somewhere up above, sounds of children playing cutting through the other more subtle sounds. They'd be throwing rocks down soon- they always did around that time.

-.-.-

He's not surprised.

The floors a mosaic of glass shards, alcohol soaked into the carpet beneath, the walls have several decorative holes and the bed that they shared only hours before has been taken apart piece by piece.

Hannibal's sitting against the wall between the toppled dresser and the askew mattress, head in his hands. The room smells of blood.

"Is she okay?" It seems a struggle for him to get the words out.

Drake takes a seat on a bit of the bare bed frame.

"By whose standards?" He questions mildly. King doesn't answer, just gives him that look.

"She isn't human anymore." Drake admits and finds that for the first time ever, he has no idea what to say. Even stranger, is the feeling that he owes the boy something, an explanation? Worse- an apology. For what? He hasn't the slightest clue but he feels it regardless. He's faced with a terrible fact in light of that, something he'd rather bite his own tongue off then admit aloud.

Danica may be right. It's a bitter, fleeting thought and he dismisses it immediately. Shifts off the bed because he's already feeling the irritation of idleness. Feels glass shards shatter under his feet as he moves to stand in front of Hannibal, offering the boy his hand, instead of hauling him up off the floor by his collar like he should. Hannibal sighs and grips his fingers and Drake can feel the dried blood on them, turns Hannibal's hand over once the boys on his feet.

"Though some would consider that a virtue." He says casually, inspecting the gash on the wide palm… he doesn't apologise, not for anything or too anyone.

"It's nothing." Hannibal said, flinching, hand trying to pull free of Drake's grip when he scraped a nail over the wound, removing tiny bits of glass.

"Feel better?" Drake asked casually, watching blood begin to ooze again.

"Tired."

"I'd imagine so." He picks Hannibal up casually, like a bride, like he weighs very little, which in the grand scheme of things, compared to what Drake typically shifts around, he really does.

The boy tenses, is quite probably indignant over the submissive position Drake's placed him in. For a moment Drake thinks he's about to struggle- a sigh escapes him instead and he goes lax once more.

"I just- I just had to protect her." Hannibal's head lulls against Drake's shoulder, breath warm against his neck. Drake miscalculates- tries to kiss him, tries to soothe raw nerves and is shrugged off for his trouble.

"Put me fucking down." Hannibal demands and he does, is tired of fighting with the boy.

"Don't do that." He orders after taking several large steps away from Drake.

"Touch you?"

"Act decent and normal and nice and human… your not and it fucks my head up so bad that I do stupid things like fucking sleep with you."

"It would never have mattered would it?" He finally manages it pin down and admit what his entire problem with Hannibal is.

"I am a bastard and I do horrible things- but even if I weren't and didn't you'd still hate me- because of what I am."

"You kill my kind." Hannibal spits back at him- in a tone that suggests he has no moral high ground to stand on here.

"You killed my friends- tore them apart for no reason at all-" _Yes_… and maybe Hannibal has a point about him and moral high ground.

"And you kill mine. You slaughter my children for no legitimate reason-" But damnit neither does Hannibal, if they're going to be particular.

"You mean besides them eating us."

"Human's kill to survive as well- but you don't see it that way do you- you think human lives are worth more than any other on this planet. You slaughter animals, wear their skins, eat their flesh and do not spare them even a second thought because you think they are inferior too you."

"You killed my friends."

"Yes."

"Zoë's mother." Is starting to wish he hadn't but-

"Yes." It's an unfamiliar feeling.

"To… survive… because they would've killed you."

"Yes."

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes." Did he ever not?

"That's what makes us different."

"I've seen you kill- you don't understand it do you… why you fit your armour and your weapons and go out and fight- it's not to survive. You kill us because you hate us and you don't hate us because we hurt your kind. You hate us all because one of us wounded you. She made you feel weak and used and the only time that feeling stops is when you're tearing one of us apart. You never stopped to ask if any the vampires you've killed over the years deserved to die because you never cared." It occurs to Drake just then, that he is right. They are exactly the same- in every way that- for the moment- counts. It's not a happy realisation for him- he wishes to be human or anything else close less than Hannibal wants to be a vampire again.

"Have I misjudged anything? Tell me please, if I somehow have." The boy sighs, crosses his arms- looks as tired as he feels suddenly. It's sad- not because they make for poor, imperfect, skewed archetypes of their races- but because they don't and if ever Drake could believe that his race was the better of the two- stronger, less flawed, more honourable, those days are long gone. Violent, angry, conniving, and bloody… under the skin, they are the same.

"I'm not the only monster here so why am I the only one who should apologise for it." He spits and Hannibal's arms fall back to his sides. He huffs again and looks lost and Drake has the urge to touch his shoulder, has the vague and probably misguided notion that it'll ease some of the boy's frustration- even angry; he wants too.

Danica's right- which puts Drake in a fair amount of turmoil himself because he doesn't know what to do with something like that.

Danica's right.

Drake wants to touch him… He walks away instead.


End file.
